


Every Piece in Your Hand

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Series: Fairytale/Supernatural [21]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: The salvation for the mermaid happens in a different way.





	Every Piece in Your Hand

It began when a storm brew over the ocean, swallowed up a ship into its depths and a prince fell into the ocean and his only salvation was a mermaid pulling him through the tumultuous currents. Sayaka grasped him tight and when she reached the shore she felt as if her entire body would give up.

She let him rest where the water met the shoreline, the waves gentle now, and it felt like her heart was too enormous for her chest when she looked at him.

Sayaka had a few human treasures, scavenged from shipwrecks or carelessly fallen overboard, and her hand went to the silver line around her neck. She unhooked it and took off one of her strange circles, one with the image of a stout, ruffled bird. She laid it in the prince’s hand, a memento of her.

But even when she returned to the sea and the sun and moon crossed over many times she could not get the image of the prince out of her mind.

She knew of a creature that could grant any desire, and found him in the depths of the ocean, far past where anything she was familiar with.

There was a condition, always a condition, that she could have the body of a human. She would have to gain her voice and painless legs, with the love of another human. A gemstone set into a band would tell her the time she had left, as the pretty blue would become washed with murky darkness overtime.

Sayaka was given the potion, and she swam to the shoreline. She drank the potion, and it tasted like the burning salt of the sea and her tail split and reformed into two human legs.

In the morning a sailor found her on the beach. The sailor brought her to the prince, to see if she was a lost princess or otherwise. The prince was lost in grief over the loss of whoever saved him from a watery grave and nothing could pull him from his stupor so he was not much help in identifying this strange girl.

Sayaka stepped from the sailor’s side, wincing at the searing pain in her legs. She recalled what she had glimpsed from passing ships and began to dance.

She was aware that it was gangly and unrefined, too many steps and awkward leaps, bounds and twirls, but the prince had a flicker of a smile. When Sayaka stopped, the prince asked for her to continue dancing for him, as he felt a semblance of joy watching her dance.

Sayaka was to stay with the sailor that found her. Her home was snug for two people, but she made enough room for Sayaka to feel welcome, and offered up her name, Kyoko, as she made dinner. It was described by Kyoko as something simple but there were flavors that Sayaka could not describe, different from the meat of a fish, and she scraped her bowl clean.

It was after dinner that Kyoko asked for Sayaka’s name.

Sayaka could not speak her name. She tried to fight against the potion, her voice lost, and Kyoko took note of her obvious distress with each failure. She listed off every name she could think of, and there was mutual relief when she finally correctly guessed Sayaka’s name.

Then Kyoko brought out some clothes for Sayaka. Sayaka looked at the pile in confusion before realizing why. Sayaka’s only article of clothing was an old dress she found in an old shipwreck. The hem was slightly torn, the sleeves were shreds of fabric, and it was forever stiffened by saltwater. In comparison Kyoko’s clothing looked fresh and new.

She nodded her thanks, over and over, and Kyoko merely smiled and accepted the thanks over and over.

It wasn’t until later, when Sayaka was trying to sleep amid her excitement of doing all of this, that she realized she never got the prince’s name.

In the time that followed there was no way to ask for his name and he did not give it to her. He merely watched her clumsy dance, and when it was done he would say nothing.

Overtime, as Sayaka danced, suppressing her silent screams of pain, the prince paid attention half-heartedly. And so it was whenever Sayaka danced for the prince, his emotions seemingly only languid attention or outright agitation.

Sayaka kept dancing. Day after day her gemstone was getting darker.

But it seemed that the prince would never look her way with happiness. Sayaka found that her heart thudded with relief and joy when she was permitted to go home after each unsuccessful attempt to cheer up the prince. Kyoko scoured away Sayaka’s internal turmoil with stories of the sea and comforting food.

Sometimes Kyoko would do imitations of various sea creatures and Sayaka would fill the air with silent laughter.

But the day that the prince broke his mourning was not by Sayaka’s hand. A foreign princess arrived during the hour in which Sayaka was dancing for the prince, and the prince’s eyes became bright when he saw the crest bestowed on the princess’ clothes.

The princess’ family crest was of an owl, the same as the ring found in the prince’s hand when he was on the shore, and for however illogical it sounded the prince was adamant that she saved him that stormy night.

In the blink of an eye the prince was whisked away, caught up in a youthful fervor, and immediately left for the princess’ kingdom to ask the king and queen for their blessing in courtship.

Sayaka was forgotten, and walked alone in the evening. Her gemstone was pitch black.

She did not return home, her heart heavy and knowing that she would crumble into sea foam when the sun disappeared. She stood on the docks.

Her skin felt cold, and she breathed in, taking a step forward, but she fell backwards.

Kyoko was holding her tight. Kyoko was spilling out her worries about Sayaka not returning home when she usually did, to be careful near the docks, I don’t want to lose you.

Something felt like the world stopped and clicked into something right, that love didn’t have to come from someone met on the waves of a storm, it was shared in stories and laughter and meals that were so much more than the coldness of the ocean, and it could be as simple as being glad to see her at home.

The gemstone disintegrated into droplets of salt water, and Sayaka’s legs were devoid of pain.

“Kyoko, thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think this kind of story is obvious. 
> 
> And I think I made Kyousuke less likable than he is in canon. Oops.


End file.
